Is This Real?
by Analyn d'Ettore
Summary: Curious little Henry stumbles across a mirror that takes him to a place he couldn't ever have imagined.


Regina could not help but smile as her young son ran around the living room. She should scold him for running inside, but she would let it go just the once. His enthusiasm was palpable; dressed in all black with a cape and a mask, Henry excitedly observed the way his cape flowed behind him as he ran. His squeals of joy were like music to Regina's ears, and his excitement was contagious. Although she did not understand why Henry loved Halloween so much—she suspected it had something to do with all the candy, because only on Halloween was Henry allowed to determine how many sweets he was allowed to eat—she happily indulged him.

Regina stumbled when Henry slammed into her leg. Even through his mask she saw the sheepish expression plastered on his face as he said, "Sorry, mommy."

"It's okay, sweetie," Regina responded affectionately as she rubbed his head. Henry ducked away from her touch. Before Henry could resume running, Regina said, "No more running." While Regina thought watching Henry running around the living room pretending to be Batman was amusing, she was glad he collided with her rather than the hard edge of the coffee table.

Henry, not deterred by her affectionate tone, took off running once more. Eager to leave and finally go trick-or-treating, he ignored his mother. "Henry!" Regina snapped in a louder, firmer tone, "I said no running."

Henry still choose to ignore her. As much as she loved her son, he was young and listening, as with all five-year-olds, was not his strong suite. "No running or you won't go trick-or-treating," Regina threatened.

That did the trick. Henry stopped where he was, turned, and walked as quickly back towards her as he could. "I promise I'll be good." Henry looked nervous and he bit his lip lightly. "Please let me go trick-or-treating. I won't run anymore. Promise." Regina knew Henry would eventually forget his promise, but she also knew he meant well.

Regina shook her head and sighed, and then she smiled at him to let him know she was not angry. He was trying at times, but when he looked at her with affection as he was now, she did not care how difficult he could sometimes be.

"Of course. I have to get ready first and you have to eat your dinner. Kitchen."

Henry darted off to the kitchen and sat at his seat, waiting expectantly for his dinner to arrive. Regina removed the preprepared plate out of the fridge and heated it in the microwave. While the food was reheating, Regina grabbed a too-large shirt from Henry's room and made him put it on. When Henry protested, Regina said she only wanted to keep the food off of his costume. After all, how could Batman save people if his front was covered in food? Henry relented, and the moment he did, he seemed to forget he had an issue wearing the shirt in the first place.

Regina set the plate of food down in front of Henry only after making sure it was not too hot. "Eat," she commanded.

Henry selectively picked at the mashed potatoes, corn, and chicken. He left the broccoli untouched. Henry gobbled down his food, eager to finish so they could go trick-or-treating sooner, and Regina sat opposite at the table keeping him company while he ate.

In record time for a child his age, Henry pushed the plate away from him and excitedly proclaimed, "I'm done! Let's go now!"

The plate was empty except for the patch of green. "Eat your broccoli. Then we can go."

Regina pushed the plate back towards her son. Henry picked up his fork in his small fist and stared at the vegetable like it was going to attack him. Forcefully, he stabbed the broccoli and put it into his mouth. The bit was large and made his cheeks bulge outward as he chewed. A grimace crossed over his features at the taste, but he dutifully chewed and swallowed, making not effort to conceal his distaste.

"There," Henry pouted, "I ate the broccoli. Now let's go."

_Demanding little kid, _Regina though affectionately. Aloud, she said, "Nice try. You need to eat all of it. I'm going to go get ready, and by the time I come back downstairs I expect all the broccoli to be gone. Understand?"

Henry nodded his head. Regina stood and looked at him. "Henry," she prodded, waiting for him to answer her question.

"Okay," Henry agreed, drawing out the end of the word to inform her his consent was grudging. That was good enough for her.

Left alone, Henry contemplated dumping the rest of the broccoli in the trash and then saying he finished it, but his mom would probably notice the vegetables in the trash and know he lied—she was good at detecting his lies—so his safest choice was to eat the vegetables.

Without his mom around to watch him eat and reprimand him for eating too quickly, Henry shoveled the broccoli into his mouth as quickly as he could. In less than a minute, all the broccoli vanished from his plate.

Now free to do as he pleased until his mom came back downstairs to take him trick-or-treating, Henry jumped down from his chair and discarded the shirt, tossing it onto the table, before he ran back into the living room, already forgetting his promise not to run in the house.

When Henry returned to the living room, something shining in the corner caught his attention. He approached the object, a small mirror that stood as tall as his shoulders, propped against the wall in the corner off to the side of the room. The frame surrounding the mirror was black with silver jewels embedded in the surface. His mother did not normally decorate their house for Halloween, but since Henry had never seen the mirror before, he concluded that his mother got it for Halloween decorations.

Henry moved closer to the mirror to further study the intricate pattern on the frame, but as he neared, he noticed something strange happened. Instead of showing his reflection, the mirror showed someone completely different, though Henry could not tell who it was, only that the person was wearing a long, medieval style dress. Everything above the person's waist was not visible through the mirror. Just as the person in the reflection was not Henry, the room was unfamiliar as well. Instead of the lightly-colored living room, Henry saw grey brick and shadows. Little light filtered through on the other side of the mirror, making the mirror room gloomy and dark.

Almost without thinking, Henry's hand moved towards the surface of the mirror, as if by touching it he would understand why the mirror was acting strangely. His fingers brushed over the cool surface, but instead of stopping there they continued forward.

His fingers half-buried in the glass, Henry panicked. He no longer felt drawn to the mirror. He only wanted to get away from its strange power. Henry yanked his arm back, but he was unable to move further away. His action had the opposite effect. Rather than moving away from the mirror, he felt an unseen force pulling towards the shiny surface. Henry struggled, planting his feet into the carpet and bracing himself but he was not strong enough to counter the force. Rather than pulling away from the mirror, he was rapidly moving closer. A strange feeling engulfed his arms as they were pulled beneath the mirror's surface, but he did not have time to observe what was happening. Too quickly to process, he felt a tingling feeling shoot through his entire body as it was forced beneath the mirrors liquid-like surface. He felt like he was being squeezed on all sides, and he wanted nothing more than to see his mother and hug her, knowing that she would not let anything bad happen to him. He was afraid and he wanted her.

The compression decreased and Henry felt relief at being able to breathe normally again. Henry felt a slight wind breeze by him, and he became aware that the room grew suddenly cold.

Henry opened his eyes to discover he was no longer in his living room, but somewhere else entirely. The grey stone floor and walls was identical to those in the mirror room.

His heart thudded wildly in his chest. "Mommy," he called out loudly, desperately, for her to hear and come rescue him. He wanted to burry his face in her chest and feel her arms wrap around him and softly stroke his back as she always did when he was afraid after waking from an unpleasant nightmare.

Not knowing what else to do, Henry forced himself to look around the room. Now able to see the high ceilings and mostly bare walls, Henry was struck by the gloomy room that looked like it came straight from an abandoned castle in Disney movies.

Across the room, Henry saw the same purple skirt he had through the mirror. The purple was dark and richly colored, and now he was closer, he could see the black lace overtop, but Henry cared nothing for the intricate details of the dress, because as the person turned around to see the source of his earlier cry, he recognized her form lunged towards her.

He knew he was not supposed to run inside, but the strange surroundings terrified him and he only wanted her to comfort him. He needed to get to her. He did not slow down at all as he approached, and only skidded to a halt when he slammed into her legs. He hugged tightly to her legs. His mother never wore leather leggings, but he did not care to wonder at his mother's strange appearance. He just needed her.

The Evil Queen stood frozen in shock at the unexpected entrance of the small child. Normally, she would have reacted to any intrusion into her private rooms, but the young boy running towards her and hugging her took her by surprise. Any other child his age would know her to be the fearsome Evil Queen and avoid her—she delighted in the fear she inspired in others—but not him. For some reason, he clung to her like a drowning man to wood, refusing to look anywhere.

Unable to walk away due to the boy's viper-like grasp, the Evil Queen pushed him away, and once extracted from his firm grip, she stepped back to look at him. The boy had messy brown hair, but his clothes were strange. He wore some type of skin-tight black material that she had never seen before. He was wearing a black cape and a black mask. The only color in his clothing was a spot of yellow on his chest. Whoever he was, he was different. Almost as if he came from another land.

Determined to find out who the boy was, Regina tried her best to put on a friendly smile. It came out more as a smirk. Before Regina could ask a question, the boy asked, "Mommy, why do you look scary?"

Scary? A real smile crossed the Evil Queen's face at the boy's forthright question. He was bold. No one dared speak to her that frankly.

The smile disappeared as quickly as it emerged as his words sunk in. _Mommy? _She did not have any children.

"Where are we, mommy?" the boy asked when the Evil Queen did not respond right away.

It was then Henry knew something was really wrong. His mother was distant, almost as if she did not recognize him, like she was someone else. But that was not possible. Whatever was going on, he could recognize the woman's face anywhere. She was his mom, the one who hugged and kissed him goodnight after reading him a story, the one who made his favorite hot cocoa and walked him to school every morning. As far as he could recall, his mother never dressed up for Halloween, but her scary looking costume and blood red lips had to be a costume. She was his mother, even if they were in a strange and drafty room where she wore scary looking clothing.

"In my castle, darling child," the Evil Queen said. She held out her hand in invitation, "Now, why don't you come and tell me about yourself." Wherever the child was from, he was not from the Enchanted Forest. His ignorance of his whereabout, of who she was, was proof enough. Now, she needed to figure out who he was, how he managed to breach all her defenses and get into her private rooms unhindered, and most importantly, why the boy thought she was his mother.

Instead of taking the Evil Queen's hand, Henry stepped backwards, all the while keeping his gaze intently on the Queen's face. His green eyes widened with fear. "What have you done to my mommy?" he whimpered, curiosity giving way to fear. The woman standing in front of him might have his mother's face and voice, but it was not her. His mother never looked at him like that, like she was going to hurt him. His mother never looked scary. She was strict and unfair at times, but Henry never doubted her love for him. There was no way the cruel and harsh looking woman was his mother. That woman was evil. His mother was good.

The Evil Queen's curiosity gave way to vexation and then anger when the boy kept backing away from her. His fearlessness disappeared and instead of looking at her with familiarity, he now stared, wide-eyed, at her. She heard the soft sound of his breathing speed up and she saw the sweat forming on his brow. "Tell me who you are," the Evil Queen demanded, done playing games. She advanced rapidly on the young child, calling for her guards as she did so. The little boy turned ashen at the click of her heels against the stone floor. He kept backing away until there was no where else to go, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Tell me who you are!" the Evil Queen demanded with more vehemence than before.

Henry risked glancing to the side and saw the mirror. Though he could not see into the mirror, he had a budding hope that if he could go through the mirror the same way he came, he could go back home and escape the nightmare. He inched to the side by was frozen by the Evil Queen's glare.

Where once he had viewed the woman's features as familiar, there was no resemblance to his mother in her cold complexion. He needed to distract her long enough to get to the mirror. Distantly, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and when he looked up he was six guards enter, cloaked head to toe in black armor.

"Why aren't you happy, mommy?" Henry asked in the voice he used when he wanted to change his mother's mind. It was his purposefully sad and pathetic voice, and it worked on her.

The Evil Queen paused briefly in her advance. If the boy was her son, as he seemed to think he was, then she had not had him yet. But from his last question, she wondered if it meant she was going to be happy someday. That meant she was going to succeed at killing Snow. Her lips curled up in a cruel smile at the thought, and Henry used the Evil Queen's momentary distraction to dark to the side. Not pausing to consider if it was going to hurt, only desperate to escape, Henry plunged headfirst into the mirror.

Before when Henry first touched the mirror, he felt terror at it's strange pull and the squeezing feeling but now he welcomed the sensation as he was pulled beneath the mirror's surface, pulled towards a familiar, pristine white room.

Henry did not stop to look back at the mirror and see if the scary woman that looked like his mother followed him. Without second thought, he dashed out of the living room, heading straight upstairs and to his mother's room. He did not knock. He threw open the door and ran inside.

"Henry," Regina scolded when she saw her son barreling towards her, "I told you not to run in the house."

Henry heard the concern in her familiar voice and he was soothed, but he did not calm until he as hugging tightly onto her legs. "Don't let her hurt me," Henry sobbed. Only now that he felt safe with his actual mother did he feel the tears, from stress and fear, gathering in his eyes.

"Of course not, sweetheart. Mommy won't let anyone hurt you," Regina said soothingly as she picked Henry up into her arms. Now that he was getting bigger she rarely picked him up. He was heavy, but he clung to her tightly. His arms snaked around her neck and refused to move. She walked with him and sat down on her bed, settling Henry into her lap. "Now tell me what happened." Her heart clenched in anger at whomever made her son terrified.

"I finished my broccoli like you said, and then I saw the mirror in the living room. And then I touched it and I was somewhere else, and you were there, only you were dressed all strangely, and then it wasn't you even though it looked like you because you would never hurt me, would you mommy?"

Regina did not comprehend most of what he'd said, but understanding dawned on her as she briefly recalled an experience she'd long since forgotten. On night, long ago, in the Enchanted Forrest, a boy dressed exactly as Henry was now with his same brown hair and green eyes, appeared, and when she'd attempted to figure out who he was, he'd escaped the same, unknown way he'd entered. She'd searched briefly for him, but nothing ever came of the search, and without even a name to go by, she gave up and forgot the experience.

Her eyes widened in horror as she realized that Henry, he precious son, was that very same boy; somehow he found a way to travel back to the Enchanted Forrest and meet her before she knew who he was. Her heart clenched in fear at what might have happened. Had Henry not figured out how to escape...she did not even what to think about her past self would have done to him had he stayed. She would have done anything to learn of his secret. She still would. She felt sickened that she had nearly, inadvertently, hurt her son.

"No, sweetheart, I'd never hurt you," Regina assured him as she stroked his back as she always did when he was frightened. "I'll always protect you."

Henry tilted his head up to look deep into her eyes, and Regina was struck by her son's vulnerability. "Promise?" he asked.

"I promise, my little prince." Regina meant it, every word.


End file.
